


Saudade

by spencerdee



Category: American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Witches, Reincarnation, transferred from my tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spencerdee/pseuds/spencerdee
Summary: There was something odd about one of the new students, but Cordelia just couldn’t put her finger on what it was.





	

**Author's Note:**

> saudede means “a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; the love that remains”

There was something odd about one of the new students, but Cordelia just couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

She’d felt it the very first day that they’d opened the gates of Miss Robichaux’s Academy to the aspiring witches of the world. That student was one of the new hopefuls, clad in all black and chatting animatedly with the other girls as Cordelia began her introduction.

And yet, there was this air around her that seemed all too familiar.

Cordelia must have lost her train of thought and stared at the young girl as Zoe called out to her. She gave the young witch a small smile before catching the eye of that one student, urging her skills to try and discern what it was that made this student stand out from all the others. She wasn’t the new Supreme. No, it was far too early for another to arise. So what was it that pulled Cordelia’s attention to her?

“What’s your name, child?” she found herself asking, watching the student’s reaction with an almost hawk-like attitude.

The crowd’s attention turned to the young blonde who’d tucked her head beneath her black hat a bit shyly. Still, she answered in a slightly raspy voice, “May Stydi.” Her voice held the tiniest hint of an accent, one that screamed familiarity to the Surpreme, but not something prominent enough that she could distinguish.

Cordelia nodded politely before she turned her eyes away from May to continue her introduction, all the while ignoring eyes that reminded her of the dull brown of swamp mud latch on to her.

This feeling of familiarity continued to manifest itself multiple times as the days went on.

May was one of those who stayed in the original house. Some of the other students had to be housed on the lot next door, the previous home of the Ramseys. May had been roomed with seven others, and none of them had ever come to Cordelia with any complaints about the young witch.

Still, Cordelia hadn’t been able to shake that feeling. May always seemed to be watching her, offering warm smiles whenever Cordelia returned her gaze.

And then one day, Cordelia saw young May twirling around the lobby to a song in her head. The sight of her, blonde locks flying wildly around as she spun to the music only she could hear, was enough to cause the Supreme to look away and fight back tears.

She still mourned for her.

Misty Day had been someone that… touched something in Cordelia’s heart. She came to the coven in its time of need, and she came into Cordelia’s life when all seemed lost. It was her warm eyes and innocent smile that acted as a lifepreserver, something to keep Cordelia from drowning in the sea of all her sorrows.

And then that beautiful light was extinguished, damned forever in a hell that was never meant to house such a pure soul.

Cordelia had watched and was unable to do anything as Misty Day disintegrated into dust in her arms.

She had so many regrets.

She was the Supreme, so why had she been unable to save Misty from her cruel fate? Why hadn’t she been able to speak to her spirit despite her numerous attempts? Why hadn’t she been able to protect her?

Why hadn’t she been able to tell her how she truly felt?

Part of her thinks that this odd feeling she felt was something of a leftover from her endless mourning. Perhaps, the physical resemblance between her beloved and the new student sparked this interest. Or maybe it was the little quirks about May, those little quirks that always seemed to remind her of the swamp witch.

She still kept Misty’s items in her room. Some part of her just pleaded to keep those things just in case. Just in case what? She didn’t really know. But she’d kept them, and every night, she held that shawl - Misty’s favourite - to her chest as she cried herself to sleep at night.

In the morning, she was the perfect Supreme, helping all her students to the best of her abilities.

“Miss Goode?”

Cordelia snapped out of her thoughts and raised her head to look at who’d come into her office. Speak of the devil and the devil shall come.

“What can I do for you, May?” Cordelia’s voice was tight and strained as her heart pounded in her chest.

She’d never seen May wear eyeliner before… Until now.

And damn it if she didn’t look like Misty Day in all her glory. The only thing missing was the shawl, but Cordelia decided it would be overkill if that was added to the child’s wardrobe.

“I think I lost something in the greenhouse during the lesson earlier today. I was wondering if you’d allow me to look for it.”

The greenhouse was now off-limits to students unless during class. More students meant stricter rules, so of course the inquiry wasn’t all that odd. So Cordelia agreed, but only if she’d accompany May to make sure she didn’t sneak in some of the herbs.

Together, they’d entered the greenhouse, and it felt as if the memories slapped Cordelia in the face. Hard.

This was their place.

“Oh, here it is.”

The exclamation snapped Cordelia out of her reminiscing and she turned her attention back to May who’d walked towards her brewing table. Cordelia had fallen asleep there the night before, and the shawl that she found she couldn’t sleep without was now gripped between May’s lithe fingers.

The young blonde placed the shawl on her shoulders and gave an experimental twirl, a bright smile immediately found its way to her lips.

“That isn’t yours,” Cordelia protested, albeit weakly. The sight of her student in the greenhouse, looking every bit like the woman she loved, was still such a shock.

A playful smile soon found its way to the young witch’s lips as she walked over to the Supreme. She had to stand on her toes to let her lips reach Cordelia’s ears.

“But it is,” she whispered, the accent thick and prominent, and walked out without a glance back.


End file.
